Lucien was so satisfied with the simulation facility that he immediately wanted one in the main Lootwell territory too.

It’s not open to outsiders yet.

His people first.

The structure itself was simple in principle.

Layered floors. Spatially expanded rooms. Recorded opponents. Selectable strength conditions. Custom environments. Safety measures. Scoreboards.

Simple on paper.

Absurd in execution.

Each floor contained many rooms, and each room was far larger inside than outside. A participant would pay for access, choose an opponent, choose whether to fight with suppressed strength or full strength, select an environment, and begin.

Once the environment formed, the opponent manifested.

The lower floors held weaker opponents and simple training echoes.

The middle floors held elite combatants, strange monsters, and tactical scenarios.

The deeper restricted floors held horrors from the Millennia War, ancient beasts’ memories, void entities, and other things Lucien did not intend to explain to the public without proper supervision.

And at the highest restricted summit stood the Human Ancestor.

That floor had no decorative name.

Only one line written above the entrance:

[Enter humbly.]

Seran saw it and laughed.

Lucien said, "It is practical advice."

"It is also an insult."

"To arrogance, yes."

And, like the Ascension Spire, the facility contained safety measures.

No one truly died inside.

If fatal damage landed, the simulation ended.

•••

Then Lucien added the feature that would guarantee chaos.

A scoreboard.

The moment he announced it, several people in the room went still.

Seran slowly turned toward him.

"You are doing this on purpose."

"Yes."

Marie, who had been standing nearby, crossed her arms.

"You want people to compete."

"Yes."

Kaia smiled.

"You want them to embarrass themselves."

"That is secondary."

Marina raised her hand.

"Can I put my name in large letters if I win?"

Lucien looked at her.

"That is literally what the scoreboard does."

Marina’s eyes shone.

Sylra quietly asked, "Can aliases be used?"

Lucien paused.

Then smiled.

"Yes."

The scoreboard system would record clear categories.

Opponent defeated. Difficulty level. Strength setting. Environment. Time taken. Individual or team ranking.

Name and affiliation could be displayed if the participant allowed it.

And because Lucien understood people, he knew exactly what would happen.

People would compete.

Battle-maniacs would compete.

Factions would compete politely at first, then less politely.

Ancient beasts would pretend not to care and then spend three days trying to shave one breath off their time against a Millennia War horror.

The elemental women would likely form a team and dominate environmental categories unfairly.

Seran would absolutely place under several aliases just to irritate people.

Solar Concordium, once he heard of it, might move in permanently.

Lucien could already imagine the trend.

And that was good.

Competition sharpened effort.

Effort produced experience.

Experience produced survival.

The real purpose of the facility was not entertainment.

It was preparation.

If the Black Mass monsters returned in larger force, if Primordial Incarnations appeared, Lucien did not want his people seeing impossible enemies for the first time on a real battlefield.

Fear was worst when unfamiliar.

The simulation facility would make the impossible familiar enough to fight.

That was priceless.

•••

Several days later, Lucien entered the simulation facility.

The scoreboard projection glowed nearby.

Already, names had begun appearing.

Seran had taken first place against three different opponents under three different aliases.

Lucien knew all three were him.

He said nothing.

Marina had taken first place in one water-field survival scenario and had written her affiliation as:

[Luc’s Most Adorable Water Disaster]

Lucien erased it.

She wrote it again.

He erased it again.

She replaced it with:

[Definitely Not Marina]

Lucien allowed it out of exhaustion.

Eirene, somehow, had entered quietly and claimed a high ranking against a strategy-based opponent without anyone seeing her do it.

That felt very Eirene.

The Human Ancestor board remained nearly empty.

Most people who entered did not even qualify for ranked completion.

At the top stood only one clear record.

Eirene.

Not victory.

But survival time.

Lucien stared at it for a long moment.

Then looked at her.

She smiled faintly.

"Are you curious?"

"Are you going to explain?"

"Not yet."

Lucien sighed.

"I expected that."

Eirene’s smile deepened by the smallest amount.

Lucien looked back toward the Human Ancestor record.

The hooded figure stood still in the projection preview.

Lucien folded his arms.

This facility had begun as a tool.

It had already become something more.

A place where old enemies could be dissected.

A place where departed warriors could be faced again.

A place where legends could be measured, even if only poorly.

A place where future defenders could learn that power alone was never enough.

Lucien smiled slowly.

The Ascension Spire taught people to climb.

This facility would teach them to survive.

And when it finally opened to the wider world, another trend would begin.

Another obsession.

Another reason people would look at Lootwell and realize that the world they knew was becoming outdated.

But for now, Lucien kept it internal.

Let his people enjoy the advantage first.

•••

Several more days passed.

Lucien stayed in the Middle branch and refined the simulation facility there.

By then, the facility had already gained its name.

The Echo Crucible.

The name had spread first among Lootwell’s people, then among the Liberators and Celestials.

Lucien stood inside the central chamber of the Echo Crucible.

The first version had worked.

That did not mean it was finished.

Eirene stood beside him with several Lunarian array specialists.

She had arrived with notes.

Those were improvement notes for the facility.

Lucien had asked his people for their opinions, and they answered seriously. Every suggestion was recorded, sorted, and reviewed one by one.

And so...

Lucien added special scenario floors.

These floors would simulate fragments of the Millennia War itself.

Siege floors.

Corruption floors.

Healer trial floors.

Commander trial floors.

Stealth and infiltration floors.

And, after Seran’s suggestion, a disaster floor where the goal was not to defeat the enemy at all, but to save as many civilians as possible while surviving a collapsing battlefield.

Not just that...

The facility also gained after-action reports.

Short battle replays.

Difficulty tags.

Healer contribution records.

Commander decision records.

Environment compatibility notes.

And finally, a mercy setting for beginners who wanted reduced pain feedback.

Seraphine named that setting "coward mode."

Lucien renamed it "introductory mode."

The system eventually settled on:

[Guided Pain Feedback.]

•••

Once the new version stabilized, the Echo Crucible hummed.

Layer by layer, the facility awakened.

The scoreboard expanded.

The floor list updated.

The scenario catalogue opened.

Lucien read the final system description and smiled.

"Better."

Eirene looked at him.

"Ready for trial guests?"

Lucien nodded.

"Send the invitations."

•••

The messages went to the newly allied factions of the Middle Continent.

The message was simple.

[The Echo Crucible is ready for limited allied trial.]

[Selected representatives may enter before public opening.]

[This trial is free.]

[Feedback is welcome.]

[Rankings may be recorded.]

That last line did more work than the rest of the message combined.

The allied factions responded quickly.

•••

The representatives arrived expecting something impressive.

By then, they had learned to expect that from Lootwell.

They still were not ready.

The Echo Crucible received them with a quiet grandeur different from the chapel’s sanctity and the floating city’s arrogance.

The envoys slowed as they entered.

One young representative from Starveil Observatory whispered, "This is a training hall?"

Clara, acting as one of the guides, smiled politely.

"Yes."

The representative looked at the walls again.

"It feels like a war memorial."

"That is also correct."

The explanation did not comfort him.

Lucien watched from the upper observation deck with Seraphine, Seran, Eirene, Vivian, and the others.

The first allied representatives gathered in the central selection hall.

A projection appeared before them.

[Choose Trial Type.]

[Combat Echo.]

[Team Scenario.]

[Survival Trial.]

[Rescue Operation.]

[Healer Assessment.]

[Commander Assessment.]

[Environmental Adaptation.]

[Restricted Challenges unavailable for current access level.]

The representatives stared.

Then the questions began.

A spear-wielding disciple from Mirror-Sun Hall raised his hand.

"If we defeat an opponent, will our name appear on the scoreboard?"

Clara answered, "If you choose to display it."

Another asked, "Can the affiliation be displayed?"

"Yes."

The atmosphere changed immediately.

A third asked, "Can rankings be challenged?"

"Yes."

A fourth asked, "Will early trial records be erased before public opening?"

Clara smiled, then shook her head.

"No."

That was the moment the representatives truly lost peace.

They looked at the scoreboard.

Then at each other.

Then back at the scoreboard.

Status-loving people had entered a building where status could be fought for, measured, displayed, defended, and challenged.

Lucien saw the shift happen in real time.

He almost laughed.

Seran did laugh.

Vivian said softly, "This will be very effective."

Eirene, calm as ever, said, "We may need time limits."

Lucien stared at the representatives below.

"Yes. Definitely."

•••

The first group entered beginner combat trials.

They came out humbled.

The Echo Crucible did not begin by throwing them against impossible enemies. It showed them where they were careless.

A sword disciple lost to a bandit echo because he underestimated dirty fighting.

A young formation master lost to a wolf-beast ambush because he only understood formation duels in clean arenas.

A proud spear user defeated his first opponent quickly, then chose a forest environment and discovered that tree roots were deeply committed to ruining footwork.

A healer entered a rescue trial and failed because she spent too much energy saving one critical patient while seven stable patients became unstable due to neglect.

She came out pale.

Seraphine nodded once.

"She learned."

Soon, the representatives began adapting.

They fought again.

Lost again.

Watched replay fragments.

Read after-action reports.

Argued with the reports.

Entered again.

Improved.

Then came the first scoreboard record.

A disciple from the Jade Horizon Pavilion defeated the [Ridge Bandit Captain] in the rocky pass environment with a time of two minutes and eleven seconds.

His name appeared above the hall.

[Jade Horizon Pavilion, Ren Qiu. First Place.]

For five breaths, everyone stared.

Then dignity died.

"I challenge that record."

"No. I was next."

"You already fought twice."

"That does not matter."

"It absolutely matters."

"Move aside. My faction’s footwork is better suited for rocky terrain."

"You fell on flat stone earlier."

"That was an environmental misunderstanding."

Lucien watched the polite representatives of important Middle Continent factions begin arguing like children over a training record.

He slowly turned to Seran.

"This is worse than expected."

Seran smiled beautifully.

"This is exactly as expected."

Within an hour, the first record had been broken four times.

Within two hours, three factions had begun forming temporary strategy groups.

Within four hours, one elder who was supposed to supervise his disciples entered the trial personally after muttering, "This is embarrassing."

He took first place.

His disciples cheered.

A rival faction’s elder saw this and entered next.

That was when the trial became political.

•••

By the end of the first day, the representatives had forgotten to send detailed reports home.

By the end of the second day, they had begun resting in the waiting lounges between attempts.

By the third day, Clara had to send gentle reminders that accomodations existed outside the facility.

The representatives became obsessed.

Not with only winning.

With being seen winning.

That was the Middle Continent’s weakness and strength.

Reputation mattered here.

A first-place record was not merely personal pride. It was proof that one’s sect techniques, training methods, disciples, and elders were worthy of attention.

The Echo Crucible did not merely train combat.

It converted reputation into pressure.

And pressure into effort.

Lucien realized the effect was greater than he had expected.

•••

By the fifth day, Lucien had to intervene.

The allied representatives were still inside.

Some had sent only short reports back to their factions.

Most of those reports were useless.

[Facility extraordinary. Continuing evaluation.]

[Need more time.]

[Do not ask questions yet.]

[Send better disciples.]

[Our rival faction has taken three records. This is unacceptable.]

One sect master sent a direct message asking why his elder had not returned.

The elder replied:

[I am defending the honor of the sect.]

The sect master sent:

[From what?]

The elder answered:

[A scoreboard.]

After that, the sect master requested an invitation.

Lucien read the exchange and closed his eyes.

"They are multiplying."

Eirene said, "That tends to happen with obsession."

Lucien finally made the decision.

"Announce maintenance."

The response from the representatives was immediate despair.

A polite system message appeared across the Echo Crucible.

[The limited allied trial will end in two hours.]

[The Echo Crucible will temporarily close for maintenance, calibration, and preparation for public opening.]

[All current records will be preserved.]

The hall erupted.

"Two hours?"

"I need one more attempt."

"You said that twelve attempts ago."

For the next two hours, the representatives fought like people trying to carve their names into history before a door closed.

Records shifted.

Some rose.

Some fell.

A few last-minute victories caused cheers loud enough to echo through the lower halls.

Then the facility closed.

The representatives were guided out.

They looked devastated.

One young disciple turned back toward the sealed entrance as if leaving behind a lover.